Curiosity
by Anglerfish
Summary: Glinda's never kissed a girl before. Elphaba offers to satisfy her curiosity. Gelphie, oneshot. Bookverse
Glinda had never imagined that she would enjoy having Elphaba for a roommate, but now there was no one at Shiz she would have traded her for. They had been friendly with each other for some time, and in the two weeks since Doctor Dillamond's death, things had changed even further. They had become real friends. Glinda, who had once been so desperate to submerge herself in a flurry of social activity, was content now to spend her evenings quietly in her room with Elphaba.

They both read—Glinda with her sorcery textbooks, Elphaba with goodness knew what—and Glinda was usually able to coax some conversation out of her roommate. Elphaba, who blossomed like a rosebud when presented with a political or philosophical subject, shriveled up just as quickly when the discussion turned personal. It could be terrifically frustrating sometimes. Glinda was beginning to feel a great deal of affection for Elphaba, and with that affection came a desire to be close to her—and Elphaba's main objective in life seemed to be pushing other people as far away as possible. Still, Glinda made a valiant effort. And she found that—as if Elphaba were forcing her to prove that she really was interested—she could usually get Elphaba to talk to her honestly, once she had soldiered through a great deal of prickliness.

"Elphie," she said one evening, laying her textbook on the nightstand, "may I ask you something rather personal?"

"No," said Elphaba, without looking up.

Glinda, who had expected that, ignored her. "Are you sweet on anyone?"

"That," said Elphaba flatly, "is a conversation that we are not going to have."

Unexpectedly, the words sent a pang through Glinda. There seemed to be so many conversations that Elphaba refused to have, and it made Glinda wonder if her roommate would ever be willing to open up to her. It hurt, just a bit, that Elphaba resisted any sign of closeness between them.

Still, Glinda wasn't willing to give up this particular topic just yet. For some reason, it held a special interest for her. She supposed that was because Elphaba was so prickly that it was hard to imagine her harboring tender feelings for anyone. Naturally, Glinda was determined to find out who that person might be.

"Oh yes we are," she said. "You can't deny that we're friends, Elphie, no matter how much you've tried to resist that, and friends tell each other these things. Out with it."

Elphaba made no reply, except by lifting her book higher, in order to hide her face. This had exactly the opposite of its intended effect. Glinda was aware that it was entirely possible that Elphaba simply did not have feelings for anyone—after all, Glinda herself had not been interested in any boy in all her time at Shiz—but were that the case, Elphaba would simply have said so, and that would have been that. Her evasion of the question made it more or less clear that there _was_ someone. This gave Glinda a rather queer feeling inside. So Elphaba did possess the ability to feel affection—and yet she still refused to betray any for her roommate and only friend. Why, Glinda was almost jealous of this boy who had been able to inspire tenderness in Elphaba. But that, of course, only made her more determined to find out who it was.

"Elphie, I promise I won't tell a soul, and you know I would never break a promise," Glinda wheedled. "Come now, who's the lucky lad who has your heart?"

"My heart?" The book was lowered, revealing Elphaba's face. She looked amused. "I have no heart—nor any other organs either. If you were to cut me open—as I'm sure any number of people are itching to do—you would find that I am all full of poisonous spiders. They scrabble about beneath my skin and put me in a state of constant discomfort. It causes me to be in a terribly dour mood much of the time. As you may have noticed."

"Oh, don't be absurd," said Glinda, who by now was used to hearing this sort of thing. "Everyone has a heart, and I suspect there's a boy who can lay claim to yours. Just tell me his name, Elphie."

"I am telling you the truth," said Elphaba, "when I say that no boy in Oz can lay claim to such a thing, and none ever will."

"Well then," Glinda said daringly, "perhaps you're the sort who prefers girls."

She spoke lightly, ready to quickly retract the words as nothing more than a bit of harmless teasing. Still, she was only half joking. Her gentle parents would have fainted dead away if they'd had even an inkling that she knew of such a thing, and indeed she had not known of it until she had become acquainted with Tibbett and Crope. Once, she had pulled Tibbett aside and asked him in a whisper if girls could be _like that_ too, and he had laughed and said yes. Glinda had been fascinated. To her, boys were interesting and amusing creatures, to flirt with and giggle over, but she could not imagine loving or even desiring one. Like any innocent young person, she had a healthy curiosity about the activities that men and women engaged in behind closed bedroom doors, and a nervous eagerness to experience it herself. But she shuddered to think of being handled by some rough hairy man. The gentle, sensual attentions of a woman, on the other hand—well, she certainly wasn't surprised that some girls preferred it. In a way she almost envied them.

"I don't believe I prefer anyone at all," Elphaba said brusquely. "In fact, I think I prefer to be left alone."

But she had stiffened at Glinda's words. Clearly, Glinda had hit a nerve. She felt her heartbeat pick up a bit. She wondered if Elphaba really—well, in any case, she would make sure she found out.

"Well, I'm not going to leave you alone until you tell me," Glinda said. "If you won't give me a name, at least tell me the gender. _Is_ it a girl?"

"Whence comes this sudden doubt about my sexuality?" Elphaba asked, and although she tried to sound offhand, there was a slight tremble in her voice. "Just because _you_ like to throw modesty out the window and prance about the room in your lacy underthings doesn't mean that _I_ like to watch you do it—"

"That may be," said Glinda, who was personally rather proud of how lovely she looked in said lacy underthings, "but you don't seem to be saying no."

"Oh, is that what you want?" Elphaba slammed her book down on the nightstand, her eyes suddenly blazing. "You want me to say no so that you can sleep in peace, without worrying about me lurking here waiting to molest you? Now I see what this was all about, you just want to make sure I'm _safe—_ "

"Elphaba, stop it!" Glinda's voice squeaked, the way it always did when she got emotional, but this time she was too upset to care. "That's not true! I don't care what your answer is, I just want you to tell the truth—"

"All right, fine, I'll tell you the truth." Elphaba's voice was bitter. "Yes, I do indeed have a heart, pathetic though it may be; yes, against my will, it is no longer in my possession; and yes, its owner is a _girl_. Are you happy now?"

And she threw herself down on the bed and rolled over, turning her back to Glinda.

Glinda did not hesitate. She crossed the narrow aisle between their beds and knelt next to Elphaba's stiff form. Elphaba didn't move except to bury her face in the quilt. Glinda put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Elphie," she murmured, leaning close, "it's okay."

When she spoke, Elphaba's voice was barely audible. "It's disgusting."

"No it isn't. It's perfectly normal. You know, like Tibbett and Crope—"

"Tibbett and Crope, ha!" At least this got Elphaba to turn her head, and she glared up at Glinda. "You think I'm like _them_ , giggling like an imbecile over everything in a dress? _I_ am not like that, _I_ at least have self-control, I am not about to pin you down and ravish you—"

"Yes, Elphie, of course, of course," Glinda said soothingly, patting her arm. The thought of Elphaba pinning her to the bed and, well, ravishing her was, for some reason, not an entirely unappealing one, and in fact made her feel shivery and warm all over—but never mind that. "I just meant they're my friends and I haven't a single problem with them. No matter which gender you prefer, it's still love, and it's still wonderful."

"It's not wonderful at all." Elphaba turned away again. "Glinda, I'm sorry, I really am. I know you never wanted to be my roommate, and—"

"Stop right there," said Glinda indignantly. "I wouldn't trade you for anyone in the world, and it would be downright silly for that to change now. Elphie, I don't care. I really don't."

"But it's awful—"

"No, it is not." And because she was so frustrated with Elphaba's determined attempts to put herself down, she didn't let herself think about the next words she spoke, and instead let them out in a rush: "Why, I'm rather curious about it myself."

In an instant Elphaba had rolled over onto her back and was staring up at Glinda.

"Curious, are you," she said, sounding breathless. "Well I suppose I could take care of that for you. If you'd like."

Glinda didn't understand what she meant, and then she did. She felt her face flush. She was completely lost for words. Although she had wondered for some time what it would be like to kiss a girl, she had never considered it anything more than mere curiosity; it hadn't occurred to her that such an opportunity might actually arise. And, try as she might, she was unable to think of a single reason to say no.

So, although her heart was fluttering and her head was in a flurry, she found herself saying, "Yes, I would."

Elphaba sat up eagerly and then hesitated. "Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly.

Glinda wasn't sure at all, so she nodded quickly before she could change her mind.

"All right," Elphaba said, her cheeks turning a darker shade of green. "Well, then. I guess I'll kiss you now."

She reached out with one hand to cup Glinda's cheek, and Glinda's heart began to thump. There was a pause and then Elphaba leaned forward hesitantly, and at the last minute Glinda leaned forward too, making their noses bump awkwardly. They both laughed a little, nervously, and then Elphaba tilted her head and tried again, and this time their lips met.

And suddenly Glinda didn't feel nervous anymore. She was aware of nothing except Elphaba's mouth against hers—soft and shyly eager—and Elphaba's hand gently pressed against her cheek, and oh it was so wonderful. It was clear enough that this was Elphaba's first kiss, because she didn't really seem to know what to do, but somehow her eager clumsiness just made it better. Glinda closed her eyes and drank Elphaba in, warmth pooling in her stomach and that softness against her lips, like nothing she had ever felt before. She wasn't sure how any of it happened - it was all just a blur of soft, tingling warmth and two hearts thumping against each other - but somehow their arms and legs were tangled up in each other, and then somehow she was pressed back against the headboard, and maybe Elphaba was inexperienced but she could make Glinda melt.

She had to open her eyes then, just to make sure that this was real, that she, Glinda Arduenna, was really kissing a _girl_ , and loving it, loving it so very much—and loving Elphaba so much. But she noticed that Elphaba's eyes were closed tight, as if she couldn't bear to open them, and then Glinda realized something. Elphaba could not possibly be enjoying this. Elphaba was in love with someone else. She had even admitted it. She was only doing this as a favor to Glinda. At this very moment, she was probably imagining herself kissing someone else entirely, because that was the only way she could get through it at all.

Glinda felt sick. "Stop," she mumbled against Elphaba's lips, and then pulled away and said, "Elphie, _stop_."

Elphaba was off her in an instant. It was clear she didn't even want to be close to Glinda anymore, now that the illusion had been broken. Glinda sat up, wanting nothing more than to kiss Elphaba again and at the same time trying to push that longing away. How ironic, that she should realize her feelings for Elphaba during that completely meaningless kiss, Elphaba who of course was in love with someone else. Or maybe that wasn't irony at all, maybe it was just depressing. Just another hopeless case of unrequited—Glinda thought the word without hesitation and was surprised by it afterward— _love_.

"Well, there you are," Elphaba said bitterly. She was lying on her side again, facing away from Glinda. "Has your curiosity been satisfied?"

"Elphie..." Glinda stopped. She didn't know what to say, or even what exactly was wrong. Elphaba sounded so cold and all Glinda knew was that, somehow, it was her fault.

"You don't have to say anything," Elphaba muttered. "I'm sorry, all right? I know that this just makes everything worse, and believe me, if I'd had any choice in the matter—"

"Elphie, what are you talking about?" Glinda said, now as confused as she was upset.

"I don't know why you're playing stupid with me, Glinda, because it isn't helping anything."

"Elphaba!" Glinda sincerely hoped that she wasn't about to cry. She had a bad habit of tearing up at the worst possible moments. "You needn't be so mean about it."

"Sorry," Elphaba said brusquely, sounding only slightly apologetic. "The spiders are biting today."

Glinda was too upset to remember any conversation they'd had before. "What spiders?"

"Oh, never mind. I guess it's all too clear now that I do, in fact, have a heart, though I warn you it's a nasty little thing, all shriveled from neglect. And it's all too clear who is currently in possession of it—so now your curiosity about _that_ has been satisfied as well, and I'm sorry it wasn't to your liking."

"Elphie," said Glinda, "I honestly do not have the slightest idea what you mean."

"You were asking before about the object of my affections." Elphaba's voice was icy again. "Well, now you know."

"No, I don't!" Glinda said, bewildered. "Who is it?"

Elphaba rolled onto her back to stare up at her in disbelief. "Glinda, you idiot, it's you!"

Without missing a beat, Glinda leaned down and kissed her with enthusiasm. Elphaba made a noise of surprise, but it only took her a moment to wrap her arms around Glinda and pull her down against her. When they finally broke apart to catch their breath, Elphaba's eyes had such a look in them, so warm and wanting and hopeful, that it was all Glinda could do not to kiss her again right away, oxygen be damned.

"I'm not complaining," Elphaba said breathlessly, "but what in Oz was that?"

Elphaba's dark hair was in wild disarray from their embraces, and Glinda reached out and tucked it behind her ear. "If you're still wondering," she said, "the answer is no."

Elphaba frowned. "No?"

"You asked if my curiosity has been satisfied." Glinda leaned in again, her lips just barely brushing Elphaba's as she spoke. "The answer is no. Somehow I find myself more curious than ever."

"Well." A smile had started to spread across Elphaba's face. "I'd better satisfy you, then," and she claimed Glinda's mouth with another kiss.


End file.
